Worth Any Price (Bow Street Runners #3)(27)

Drawing aside the curtain, Gentry glanced at the swarming city outside the carriage window. A stray shaft of sunlight caught his eyes, turning them to a shade of blue that seemed almost unnatural. Even sitting in an enclosed carriage, Lottie could sense his familiarity with the city, the fearlessness that made no corner or rookery too dangerous for him to venture into.

No aristocrat she had ever encountered-and there had always been plenty of them at Stony Cross Park-had ever possessed such a street-seasoned look, the hardened demeanor that suggested he would be willing to do anything, no matter how abhorrent, to accomplish his goals. Well-bred men were able to draw the line at certain matters...they had principles and standards...things that Gentry had so far not displayed.

If he was indeed a peer, Lottie thought it was wise of him to reject his heritage and "let Sydney rest in peace," as he had put it. She was certain that had he chosen otherwise, he would have found it difficult, even impossible, to make a place for himself in London's rarefied upper crust.

"Lord Westcliff told me that you were the head of a corporation of thieves," she commented. "He also said that you-"

"I regret to say that I wasn't nearly as powerful a figure as everyone makes me out to be," Gentry interrupted. "The stories are exaggerated more each time they're told. A few chapbook writers have done their best to make me as menacing as Attila the Hun. Not that I'm claiming innocence, of course. I ran a hell of a good smuggling operation. And although I admit my methods were questionable, I was a better thief-taker than any of Cannon's runners."

"I don't understand how you could direct thieves and smugglers and be a thief-taker at the same time."

"I planted spies and informers all over London, and beyond. I had evidence on everyone from Gin Alley to Dead Man's Lane. Whenever someone got in the way of what I wanted, I turned him in and collected the bounty. As a runner, I find the business of thief-taking a bit more difficult, as the chief magistrate insists that I do things his way. But I'm still the best man he's got."

"And not shy about saying so," Lottie said dryly.

"I'm not one for false modesty. And it happens to be the truth."

"I don't doubt it. You managed to find me when Lord Radnor's men failed after two years of trying."

He surveyed her with unnerving intensity. "The more I learned about you, the more curious I became. I wanted to see what kind of girl had the courage to create a new life for herself, with no help from anyone."

"Courage," she repeated dubiously. "Strange, that you should call it that, when I've always considered it cowardice."

He was about to reply when the carriage made a sharp turn and traveled along a well-paved street. It was sided by a landscaped green with trees and garden walks. Tidy three-story homes of mellow brick lined the secluded lane, which featured a surprisingly pastoral atmosphere in the midst of the bustling city. "Betterton," Gentry said, identifying the street. "The Bow Street office is located to our south, and Covent Garden just beyond that."

"Is the market within walking distance?" Lottie asked, anticipating the prospect of exploring her new surroundings. Although Maidstone's was established in west London, the students had never been allowed to go anywhere.

"Yes, but you won't be walking anywhere without me."

"I am in the habit of going out every morning," she said, wondering if that small but necessary pleasure was going to be withheld from her.

"I'll walk with you, then. Or a footman will accompany you. But I won't have my wife wandering outside unprotected."

My wife.The casual phrase seemed to knock the breath from Lottie's lungs. Suddenly the idea of marrying him...accepting his authority, submitting to his wishes...seemed entirely real, whereas it had only been an abstract notion before. It seemed that Gentry had surprised himself as well, for he clamped his mouth shut and stared out the window with a frown. Lottie wondered if the prospect of marriage had also just become real to him...or, God help her, if he was having second thoughts.

The carriage stopped before a house designed in the symmetrical early Georgian style, with white Doric columns and folding glazed doors that opened to a domed entrance hall. The small but elegant residence went so far beyond Lottie's expectations that she stared at it in wordless amazement.

Exiting the carriage first, Gentry helped her descend, while a footman hastened up the front steps to alert the servants to the master's arrival.

Grimacing at her cramped leg muscles, Lottie relied on the support of Gentry's arm as they approached the door. A middle-aged housekeeper greeted them. She was a plump woman with warm eyes and smooth silver hair.

"Mrs. Trench," Gentry said with sudden mischief dancing in his eyes, "as you can see, I've brought a guest with me. Her name is Miss Howard. I will counsel you to treat her well, as she has just convinced me to marry her."

Catching the implication thatshe was the one who had pressed for marriage, Lottie gave him a speaking glance, and he grinned.

Mrs. Trench could not hide her astonishment. Clearly it was difficult to twist one's brain around the concept of a man like Nick Gentry getting married. "Yes, sir." She curtsied to Lottie. "Welcome, Miss Howard. Congratulations, and much joy to you."

"Thank you," Lottie returned with a smile, then looked cautiously at Gentry. No mention had been made of how he expected them to behave in front of the servants. For heaven's sake, she hadn't even known that hehad servants. She supposed that the household would know quite soon that theirs was a marriage of convenience, so there was little sense in pretending any kind of affection for him.